August 8, 2001

I was grocery shopping with my roommate the other day. He was off looking for some last minute stuff, and I waited in the extremely long line with the cart. In front of me, a mother left her little five-year old daughter in the cart to fetch some last minute stuff also.

She was a cute little pixie, looking around, happily smiling, and impatiently waiting for her mother.

I like little kids. They always seem so much smarter than I was at that age. I'm fascinated at how expressive they can be.

For example? I waved to her, smiled, and said "Hi."

The girl shook her head, went "Uh uh," and covered her face.

I guess I have that effect on girls of all ages...

...

I don't normally do this type of thing, since I think it's cheesy and sleezy, but I was in a weird kind of mood that night.

We were at a club last month, and it was jam packed full of people. I walked up to the balconies to get away and to get a view, and I saw HER there.

She's always at the club, dancing non-stop. She's the first to dance in the early hours, and the last to leave. When the floor gets too crowded, she dances on the balcony. She's just unabashedly unself-conscious.

So I decide to talk to her.

"Too crowded for you?"

"Yeah."

"Are you here every time? I see you every time you come here."

"Yeah."

"Are you a dancer?"

"I dance here." And she walks away.

Evidently, in times of stress, I access the old reptillian part of my brain that controls the use of clich�s, and throws them out one after another.

...

For those of you who like this kind of thing, I changed my hair color with the help of some friends.

You think it'll help me pick up a punk chick?

Or get me beat up by one?